


the betrayal of time

by furygf



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (Semi) Canonical Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, friends to (reluctant) enemies to allies to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furygf/pseuds/furygf
Summary: A soft sigh, almost wistful.“I wanted… to walk with you.”Byleth grit her teeth.Suddenly, though not unexpectedly, there was the sound of something gliding through the air and then -in which byleth chooses the golden deer, but she and edelgard still get to walk their paths together.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	the betrayal of time

The throne room was hazy with smoke and ash. Soldiers from both sides maneuvered their broken, half-dead bodies around debris and the bodies of those less fortunate. This was the end of a battle, the air heavy with blood and the sick, empty feeling of knowing that nobody has truly won. Byleth watched as the still-living retreated before a worse fate could befall them, and thought, _Good._ _No use in dying for a cause that may no longer be just. _Then she pushed herself in the opposite direction.

In the center of the room, looking fragile and almost doll-like if not for the tears in her clothing and the fierce expression on her face, crouched a woman - no, a girl. This was no longer the Flame Emperor, try as she might to maintain that appearance. No, this was someone young, someone youthful despite all she had seen. All she had done.

An equally beaten Byleth struggled to maintain her own front. She could not show such weakness in front of her former students, not now. Not when they needed her so. She resolutely avoided any thoughts of their own possible fates. She was no stranger to the brutal reality of battle, but such thoughts would only hinder her now. The former professor needed all the strength she could gather, mental as well as physical, if she were to carry through with what needed to be done.

Instead, she focused only on the small figure in front of her, thoughts of her allies becoming distant. The Emperor utilized her axe, struggling to her knees but continuing to lean on it for support. Byleth dragged her own damaged body forward, relying on her own weapon for support as she stumbled.

Even the so-called Enlightened One had not made it through this fight unscathed. Something she was sure would never make it into tales of this day - better to not tell too much, lest she become too human in the eyes of the masses who knew no better, who needed gods to rely on.

By now, only a few feet separated the women. The only sound was the belabored breathing of the Emperor, even as she raised her head high in apparent defiance.

Byleth herself fared no better, each breath feeling raw and each step shooting pain throughout her body, even with the aid of her sword acting as cane. Any remaining survivors had cleared out, rubble and corpses strewn unceremoniously in their wake. She realized that there would be no witnesses for whatever happened next.

It felt terrible. It felt freeing.

The two women regarded each other. Edelgard’s eyes shut tightly for a long moment before she met Byleth’s gaze again. The other woman kept her eyes trained forward; the mere thought of doing otherwise was too disrespectful to entertain. A minute passed. Hours, months, a year. A century. It felt as though they could stay in this moment, a moment in which things were not yet totally irreparable, forever. Perhaps they wanted to.

Finally, Edelgard opened her mouth.

“It looks,” she began, voice clear despite her difficulty breathing, “As though my path will end here.”

Byleth lowered her head slightly, her heart unbeating but still clenching painfully in her chest.

“Strike me down. You _ must. _”

She took another laborious step forward, attempting to raise the sword in a two-handed grip. Edelgard visibly adjusted her fingers around Aymr, leaning slightly higher than before, and continued.

“My teacher, claim your victory.”

Edelgard sounded almost desperate now. Byleth shut her eyes briefly before forcing them open again.

“Across this land, people are killing each other. If you do not act now, this conflict will go on forever.”

Her sword was now leveled shakily in front of her.

“Your path lies across my grave.”

It now seemed unbearably heavy; her grip slackened. Lowering the sword once again.

“It is time for you to find the courage to walk it.”

Her grip tightened again.

“If I must fall…” A long pause. “... Let it be by your hand.”

Her sword dragged behind her as she closed the distance between them. Her arms began to rise.

A soft sigh, almost wistful.

“I wanted… to walk with you.”

Byleth grit her teeth.

Edelgard finally lowered her head, not submissive but unwilling to torture herself further. She knew what would happen to her - had just begged for it, almost - and yet was unable to view her own fate. Tears sprung to her eyes unbidden, a rare display of emotion. But in this moment, who could fault her? It was one thing to know you are about to die. Quite another to watch it head on, especially at the hands of someone you respected, someone you admired, someone you may have even -

No matter. It was nearly over now.

Another showcase of humanity that would be lost to time in favor of telling a cleaner story. One of gods and monsters, good and evil. So black and white in a way life never was.

Suddenly, though not unexpectedly, there was the sound of something gliding through the air and then - 

* * *

When news of the professor’s resurgence had reached them, her allies had expressed some joy. They seemed almost shameful, as if merely being glad that she was not dead was synonymous with treason. Edelgard had tried to assure them that she took no issue with it - after all, they’d all gone to the same school. Byleth may not have been _ their _teacher, but many of them had become quite close with her regardless. Unfortunately, her unapproachable demeanor had devolved in a sort of coldness, and she was unsure how much comfort it actually brought.

Privately, she could not keep an ember of hope - stupid, illogical hope - from igniting in a chamber of her heart that she had long since closed off. 

In the next several months, the Alliance secured several key wins, putting the Empire at a severe disadvantage. It should’ve been enough to snuff out that hope as easily as water does a flame. Instead, it stubbornly remained.

If Byleth was winning, even at the Empire’s expense, then she was still alive. If she was still alive, there was still a chance.

A chance for what, exactly?

Well. She’d settle for just one more chance to speak with her.

* * *

Near the end of her time at the monastery, there had been a day on which Edelgard had considered revealing everything to Byleth. It had been shortly after her teacher had received the power of the goddess, before they had visited the Holy Tomb and before Edelgard had revealed herself as the Flame Emperor. 

On a free day, the professor had invited her to tea. Edelgard had, of course, accepted. Any opportunity to spend time with the other woman was one she would readily take advantage of.

Edelgard prided herself on being very pragmatic - in a position like hers, there was no other choice. A more romantic person may have considered it sweet, to have such pure adoration for another. If you asked her, it was foolish. Byleth wasn’t even _ her _teacher, much as she wished otherwise. This infatuation that she masqueraded as reverence was childish at best. Left unchecked, she knew how dangerous it could become.

Still. The lure of extra time with Byleth was generally enough. The addition of sweets and a warm cup of her favorite tea proved a temptation too great to resist. She rarely tried, now, anyway.

The teacher had served her favorite tea, as usual, then sat quietly and fixed Edelgard with an intense gaze. Edelgard had gone along with it for several minutes, observing the professor herself. Her changed appearance was still very new and, Edelgard thought, just a bit unsettling.

The professor’s prolonged scrutiny had begun to grow uncomfortable. She had never been overly talkative and was prone to strange bouts of silence, a quirkiness most of the students had grown used to, but something about this particular left Edelgard feeling almost dissected.

The silence stretched on and, just as it became unbearable, Edelgard set her teacup down with a soft clink. Folding her hands in her lap, she said, uncharacteristically hesitant, “Professor, are you feeling alright?”

The other woman blinked and shook her head slightly. “Apologies. I have just been… thinking.”

Edelgard fought the urge to bite her lip. “May I ask what about?” The professor hummed, but offered no response. She hazarded an educated guess. “Are you worried about what will happen in the Holy Tomb?” Considering the event itself brought no nerves, her own plans already laid out quite tactfully, but discussing it with the professor sent a frisson of anxiety through her.

Byleth’s face retained its standard neutrality, although her lips quirked up slightly. “I suppose I am, a bit, but I haven’t been thinking about it. May I ask about your thoughts on the Church of Seiros?”

Edelgard stared at her for a moment, the unexpected question throwing her off balance. “I’m sorry?”

“Would you consider yourself faithful?” She reached for her teacup, seeming to rethink her question. “I’m sorry if that’s rude of me to ask.”

“No, no, it’s…” Edelgard faltered, unsure of how to respond. Admitting her own lack of faithfulness posed no real risk, but how far could she go? “I suppose I’m not particularly faithful, myself, although I can understand those who are more devout.”

Byleth nodded thoughtfully, before asking, “Why is that?”

There was no judgment in her voice. The younger woman relaxed slightly. “I don’t feel any need to rely on them, given…” She trailed off meaningfully.

The professor grimaced. Edelgard had, in a show of trust that had surprised her, confided in her about the imprisonment and experiments she had undergone. It was hardly a pleasant memory, but the older woman’s nonjudgmental attitude and quiet rage had been almost soothing. They sat quietly for a moment, almost peaceful, before the silence was broken.

“And your thoughts on the Church?”

Edelgard tensed slightly, digging her nails into her palms, which were thankfully hidden below the table. She closed her eyes to think over her answer. When she spoke, her voice was careful. “I cannot deny that there are many good people within the Church, but I must admit that I am wary of how far their influence reaches.”

Byleth’s eyes flickered around quickly, before she said lowly, “I must say I agree.”

It was here, where she almost made an egregious error in judgment. The look Byleth gave her was already so knowing. Edelgard felt herself growing overly confident for a moment. How far could she push this, if the teacher agreed so far? Byleth may not have been _ her _ teacher, but she had learned so much, had felt so understood, so comfortable, so human - how could she _ not _ entrust her with this? They needed someone like her. _ She _needed Byleth. Had they not been interrupted, then, by Claude wishing to discuss their class’ upcoming mission, she might have revealed it all.

Later on, she would curse herself for being so naive. A lapse in judgment like that could have cost everything, and had it been anyone else, the thought would never have crossed her mind. She had always been intimately aware of exactly what was at stake. 

At the same time, she couldn’t help but consider what could have happened.

Perhaps it would have changed everything.

* * *

There was a time when she meant everything to her. Unfortunately, she still did.

There was a time, once, when she truly thought she might choose her. Unfortunately, she no longer did.

* * *

A clatter. Hard metal echoing off of unyielding stone. A dry, rasping breath.

She tilted her head, which was miraculously still attached to the rest of her body. Unsure of what might happen when she opened her eyes, she paused for a moment to gather herself. The many aches and throbs in her body made it no easy task.

The breathing grew heavier, stuttering occasionally, as if someone was - 

Her eyes snapped open.

Only inches away from her knelt Byleth, no tears to be seen, but the heaving of her chest and the crumpling of her face were undeniable.

Edelgard blinked. The sight in front of her was impossible to process; there were more pressing matters for her to consider. Surely she should be dead right now. The battle had been close - far, far closer than anyone could have imagined - but she had lost it all in the end. Her own strength was admittedly formidable, but against that of the former mercenary, the woman who carried the power of a goddess, well. The outcome was obvious; though she would have struggled to follow through had she miraculously won, she knows exactly what was supposed to come next.

And yet. Edelgard could move all of her extremities. Her pain was no greater than it had been before. Taking stock of herself, she became aware of her own hitching, hysterical breath. She was still breathing, although not particularly well. She was _ alive. _ Byleth had _ spared her. _ Byleth was in front of her. Byleth was, perhaps most shockingly of all, _ crying. _Something she had never personally witnessed before, although years before she had heard the whispers of her understandable yet uncharacteristic reaction to Jeralt’s death. It was with another jolt that Edelgard realized she was, as well.

She reached out a tentative hand, grasping lightly around Byleth’s wrist where her fists were clenched against the ground. Both fell quiet, chests heaving in tandem. Edelgard could not bring herself to look up, lest the spell be broken. Surely she would still have to die, but in this moment, she could pretend as though it was alright. Could focus solely on her proximity to the person she had spent over half a decade fixated on. Feel imperfect skin beneath her callused fingers, marred by a lifetime of fighting.

As the silence stretched on and neither moved, a thought began to form in the back of her mind. For now, it was almost too sharp to touch, lest she cut herself. Because if she was wrong - if this was a blood loss-induced hallucination, perhaps, or one of Claude’s schemes. If that were the case, she would have much preferred the quick death that had practically been guaranteed. Perhaps that was deemed too good for her. Perhaps she would be made to pay for her actions instead.

It was this train of thought that spurred Edelgard to action. Delaying her fate any longer would not make it any easier to bear. Carefully, she lifted her head and met the eyes of her opponent.

Byleth’s eyes were surprisingly clear given her emotional state. Slowly, she twisted her arm to hold Edelgard’s hand. Her other first unclenched, gently covering their entwined fingers. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse but unwavering.

“I wanted to walk with you as well.”


End file.
